


The Subject of Etiquette

by the_truest_rassilonian



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_truest_rassilonian/pseuds/the_truest_rassilonian
Summary: "The Eighth Doctor and Victoria Waterfield - anything gen and sweet with them dancing, him being a gentleman to her, a Victorian aesthetic. Maybe she never even knows he's the Doctor. Can be before, after, or DURING Victoria's adventures with Two and Jamie. Can include any other of their companions that you prefer."
Relationships: Eighth Doctor & Victoria Waterfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Classic Who Secret Santa 2019





	The Subject of Etiquette

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this was my first time entering the Classic Who Secret Santa on Tumblr; this is based off the original request issued by windmilltothestars. My apologies that this is so short... I figured that I would just do short sections as to do one(ish) per day till the end of the year. (The summary, btw, is their request.)

Throughout the elegantly decorated disaster one would call a ballroom echoed the strum of a harp's wonderfully dreamlike tones; it was something one would treasure the memory of for years, and despite the unfamiliar situation surrounding the newly teenage girl's radiant gown, she couldn't help but smile a tad bit. It had been worth her father's constant nagging to be involved with such an astounding evening, with so many happy faces and recognizable icons.

It was a bit of a mystery, however, why she had been invited to this most exclusive of events; there wasn't much special about her compared to the other guests wandering about. There was a rumor that the Queen was supposed to be here (after all) and she was a mere humble, though slightly well-off, member of the peasant class (or, at least, she thought she was).

Her thoughts weren’t able to dwell too much on the fact as she glanced at someone whom seemed even worse off than she did, in rags stained with dirt and grime which seemed to be ingrained into it’s very stitches. Seems as though whomever ran this didn’t make it a point to invite only those whom could afford fanciful clothing, the little voice inside her head noted without missing a single beat. Who could this be? An official of government was what she had originally assumed, given the stamp of approval from the highest authority in the world, but doubt was slowly growing through her mind as to whether that was true.

The feeling of a hand accidentally scraping past her shoulder as someone passed her by caused a shrill screech to enter the air, the likes of which she instantly came to regret. “Ooh, sorry; didn’t mean to startle you. You’re just in my way-” Masculine features glanced back into the face of their “victim”, shock slowly registering while she muttered back an entirely incomprehensible mirror of his statement.

The funny man smirked with a dash of starlight encased in his lightly colored eyes… But there was a certain darkness hidden within them. “Good evening, Miss Waterfield!" His cheery and deep voice reminded her of the stereotypical representation of Father Christmas. “How do you do, uh…”

"John. John Smith."


End file.
